Charlier is best known for his forensic recreation of the likeness of Henri IV. He used CT imaging and digital facial reconstruction to create the following portrait of the French king.

Henri IV, reconstruction by Philippe Charlier

Charlier and his team recently analyzed the skull and hairs from the relics of Mary Magdalene from the Basilica de Sainte Madeleine in Saint-Maximin-la-Sainte-Baume. Using hundreds of digital models of the skull as a model, Charlier’s partner, artist-sculptor Philippe Froesh, sculpted a meticulous reconstruction of the face of the woman in the tomb at the Basilica. The result was an astonishing image of a fifty-five year old, dark-haired woman of Mediterranean aspect.

Mary Magdalene, as imaged by Philippe Froesh

The team has not been given permission to conduct DNA testing that might give further information on the relic, but PJ and I were both struck by the resemblance to a medieval sculpture of Mary Magdalene that we photographed in the church of Saint-Caprais in Mozac.

The first Via Lucis exhibition for the new year is a collection of 38 images of French Romanesque and Gothic churches at the Garret Gallery at the Fairfield County District Library. The exhibition opens this Sunday, January 20. We will have an open reception from 2pm to 4pm on that day and everyone is welcome to come.

Exhibition at Fairfield County District Library (January 2019)

The Main Library is located at 219 North Broad Street in Lancaster. The gallery is on the third floor, accessible by elevator.

We would love to see any members of the Via Lucis community who happen to be in this area, which is about an hour south of Columbus, Ohio. The gallery space is really superb and the photos are displayed to good effect. We will be speaking on Sunday about our work, and the exhibition will run through February 16.

We had mentioned earlier that when I recovered my health we were going to take a trip to France, Corsica and Sardinia to photograph the Romanesque churches there. We finally decided that I would probably be well enough to travel in Fall 2019; it was a glorious plan and we were looking forward to investigating the new worlds of Corsica and Sardinia. But when we began planning in detail, we came to realize that it was too much, too soon. The long drives to Southern France, then traversing both Corsica and Sardinia north to south and back again meant that we would have to spend two months on the trip and that was probably a risk for me, especially in an area of Italy where I don’t speak the language.

So, we went back to the drawing board and came up with a wonderful alternative. We will spend three and a half weeks shooting Norman churches in England and Wales and three weeks traveling through France, partly to shoot churches and partly to visit friends that we have not seen since I got sick. What a trip we have planned!

We cross the channel from France from Cherbourg to Portsmith and spend time shooting in the Dorset, Wilshire, and Devon areas, move north into Somerset toward Wells and Bath, then into Wales for five days. My father’s side of the family came from Abercynrig in Wales and we will visit there as well as photograph the great churches of Heresfordshire and Gloucestershire. The we run further north to the Scottish borderlands to photograph the great cathedral churches in Durham and Carlisle. The last ten days we work our way south to Canterbury via Lincoln, Ely, Cambridge, Saint Albans, Waltham Abbey and Rochester. Overall we plan on photographing about 35 churches in the 24 days we will be in England; ambitious, but very exciting.

We then take a short break of three days in Ghent, just to relax and see the sights (echoing to the words of Jacques Brel, Entre les tours de Bruges et Gand). Then we go to Saint Quentin to photograph the great Gothic basilica there with its spectacular examples of entasis in the nave. Then we go to Amiens to photograph Notre-Dame d’Amiens, one of the greatest Gothic cathedrals in the world, also possessor of examples of entasis in the nave columns. The challenge of adequately capturing the intentional deformations in the columns is great, but I can’t wait to try. From Amiens we return to Chartres for three days to photograph the progress on the restoration and to see our many friends there. We stay in the most wonderful little hotel – the Parvis – which is literally a 150 feet from the west portal. Such a pleasure to park the car for three days and spend the rest of the time walking and photographing!

After Chartres, we head to the Dordogne and Quercy to photograph the churches there. In Souillac, we stay at a hotel that I have visited year after year since 1986, the Pont de l’Ouysse, and we photograph one of our favorite churches, the Abbaye Sainte Marie de Souillac. with its astonishing sculptural ensemble.

Nave from east, Église Sainte Marie, Souillac (Lot) Photo by PJ McKey

From the Quercy region, we head to the Puy de Dôme to another of our “homes” in France, the Cour Carrée in Perrier, near Issoire. The Vilette family has honored us with their friendship, culinary mastery and hospitality for years, and we always look forward to returning. It helps that the area is one of the richest in Romanesque masterpieces, including the nearby Basilique Saint Austremoine in Issoire.

From the Puy de Dôme we make our way to the final stop, the third in our holy trinity of hotels, the Crispol in Vézelay. Paule and Christian Schori have befriended and hosted us for over fifteen years and no trip to France is complete without staying with them at their wonderful hotel/restaurant. In addition, we always get the opportunity to visit our favorite Romanesque church in the world, the Basilique Sainte Madeleine.

Another reason to visit (as if we needed one) is much more melancholy – we will make the trip to the Monastery of La Pierre Qui Vire and visit the grave of our beloved friend, Angelico Surchamp, who died last year. His last words to us were, ““We are separated by thousands of kilometers and a great ocean, but our hearts are close.” Now we are separated by eternity, but our hearts are still close.

PJ with Dom Angelico Surchamp in Le Villars

From Vezélay, we return home, via Boston. We have had such a good time planning this trip – having the confidence that we will be able to travel again and take up the mantle of our work. I can only imagine what it will feel like to be back in the saddle.

One thing we ask of our readers, however. We have never photographed in the English churches and cathedrals and would appreciate any tips that we can get. As you know, we have pretty much unfettered access in France, but don’t know if we will be so welcome in England. We will begin our research soon, but will be thankful for your knowledge and advice.

“Indeed during the Middle Ages there existed a sort of cinema in colors of which no trace has survived; just as in the sudden dawning of a larger hope amongst men who had not forgotten the dark age whence they had emerged but yesterday – a dawning symbolized by the great cathedrals soaring heavenwards – there was a splendid confidence in the future, not unlike that of America.”
André Malraux, “Voices of Silence”

André Malraux observed in Voices of Silence that medieval artists were not creating pictures or statues of Madonnas, they were actually creating a Madonna. They did not think that they were representing the reality, but creating it. They were saying “This is the Madonna” not “This is a picture of a Madonna.”

What must have life been like to create such an understanding. I think that we have made clear in this blog over the last few years that these medieval artisans were not in any way primitive or ignorant, but were instead capable of the most profound appreciations of the world and the most profound representations of their deep inner faith. I have come to suspect that they were capable of this because they understood the promise of that faith, they had Malraux’s “splendid confidence in the future”. In my own way, I came to that understanding on December 9, 1977.

On that night, I experienced an enormously powerful and vivid dream that comes as close to sustaining me with a life-giving faith as anything in my self-absorbed and solipsistic life. I still have the original middle-of-the-night transcription of the dream recorded in my journal, dated December 9, 1977:

“Violence dreams by the dozens lately – but the Pegasus dream made up for it. Having captured two men who turned into white horses, feeling threatened, the first horse leaping over the fence at me, I recognize that the second must be released – he is somehow in my power. The second horse climbs a 50’ wire fence and when atop leaps in the air – a beautiful white Pegasus – silver in the cloud-piercing moonlight. Transfixed by beauty – knowing that I can see it because it is there. The passers-by who mock my reverence cannot see it, but it is truly there – a vision of beauty. Donner, one of he men from the concrete pit, related to the Pegasus- stabs me in the back – it must be done – perhaps because I have seen the Pegasus – no malice. Knowing I will die soon I say – let me live for a week so I can see my parents. Death begins physically within, like an interior collapse. I go into the kitchen and see my father. I cry as I hug him and tell him I love him. The feeling of seeing Pegasus before I die, and when I see it I die … but having seen I can die. Pegasus comes from something I am punishing or lead to punishment … something I think wrong, but in reality it is a vessel for Pegasus.”

Study for Guernica horse, Pablo Picasso (1937)

I still shudder with discovery as I read this. This was the last entry in my journal for about 17 months.

In the following nights I dreamt sections of the dream again. The first night the dream was complete, and the nights following I re-dreamt segments of the dream as if I were shooting coverage of a scene in a movie, explaining and amplifying different parts of the original dream – never changing, just amplifying. One of them was seeing the second white horse climb the fence, seeing up close how the wire tore into the living flesh of the horse, close enough that I could feel the hot gusting of his breath on my face.

But throughout this time of dreaming, there was a conviction, an absolute conviction, that this was a promise for my life – that I would see the Pegasus before I die, and having seen it, would be prepared to die. This has been my source of faith for my entire life, for my own “splendid confidence in the future”.

Sometimes in reflecting on my life, I wonder how a sane man can live his life based on such dreams? Where is the rational explanation for this disembodied voice speaking to me? I hear it clearly, but there is no visible source. Is this is a vision or a dream? At such moments I understand the Lakota Vision Quest.

Caravaggio, Conversion on the Way to Damascus, Santa Maria del Popolo (Rome)

I always wanted to have my sign, my vision from God to guide me, but have never admitted to it; to be transfixed by light on the road to Damascus where others may see the light but not hear the voice. I want to be in that beatified state where I don’t take photographs, but create churches.

It is documented that the Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada was built by abbot Alfonso and his refugee monks who fled Córdoba on the site of an earlier church dedicated to Archangel Michael, probably a Visigothic structure, in the span of twelve months in 913, the historical moment when the Kingdom of León was founded. It is located in Gradefes, about 30 km east of León, slightly off the camino francés to Santiago de Compostela. San Miguel de Escalada is one of the best-preserved examples of Mozarabic architecture, a style of architecture created by conquered Christian builders who stayed in the Iberian Peninsula after the Arab invasion of 711, and later by the builders who migrated north but carrying with them artistic traditions of the Mozarabic architecture from the southern regions. After the disentitlement of ecclesiastical properties in 1836 in Spain, the monks had to leave the monastery, but the structures were registered as national monuments later in the 19th century. The extant monastery consists of the restored 10th century Mozarabic church, a tower and the chapel of San Fructuoso built in the early Romanesque style.

Exterior, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada (Castile-León)

The first sight of the Mozarabic church that leaves a strong impression on a visitor is the 12-bay colonnade of horseshoe-shaped arches of the porch, or an outdoor narthex, which was added to the church around 940 on the south façade.

South facade, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The horseshoe-shaped arch is the most distinct design element of Mozarabic architecture. On closer examination, one will discern that the south façade was built in two phases: the western seven bays of the colonnade have alfiz embellishing the arches, while the eastern five bays are left without the additional stonework.

South facade bays, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The last three columns to the east are set on a lower ground, necessitating placement of dosseret over the capitals in order to align the springing level for the arches, even with the slightly taller columns.

South facade arch detail, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

All columns appear to have been recycled, possibly from the nearby Roman city of Lancia, although capitals are not of the Classical Corinthian design, but freely, albeit imaginatively carved by stonecutters for the Mozarabic structure.

The church is laid out as a basilica plan with the porch added to the south as mentioned earlier. The nave and the slightly narrower aisles are divided by five large horseshoe-shaped arches on columns. The choir at the crossing is defined by a choir screen, or an iconostacion, as a Spanish writer called it, built of three somewhat smaller arches than the nave. The rectangular spaces to the north and south of the choir, embryonic transepts, though not expressed on the exterior are distinguished by arches from the aisles. Three apses of horseshoe-shaped plan are carved into a thick mass of masonry at the east end of the structure, all endowed with horseshoe-shaped arches of their own and vaulted in stone.

Elevation and plan, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Courtesy of Wikimedia

The entrance to the church is located at the midpoint of the nave behind the colonnade at south, and there is another entrance to the south transept several steps up from the lower ground.

“The visitor finds himself in an austere but surprisingly sophisticated ensemble,” to quote Kenneth John Conant. “The architectural membering, the proportions, the scale, the management of space and light are all very fastidious.” The nave framed by arcades on both walls and the choir screen is dimly lit from small clerestory windows above. Both the north and south aisles are devoid of any windows, except the door. The nave possesses that immaterial character of a Byzantine space.

Nave, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view to west from the choir screen shows that the main entrance on the west wall of the church which is indicated on the plan had been walled off.

Nave looking west, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The view of the corner pier where the nave arch and the outer arch of the screen are joined shows that the master builder treated the east-west direction of the nave as primary, then the outer arch of the choir screen was simply brought to the pier without an attached column as it was done for the nave arcades.

Nave detail, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

As the three arches forming the choir screen are smaller while retaining the same proportion of the larger arches, their tops are lower. The master builder obviously judged that the screen needed more wall plane above the arches to achieve the desired spatial definition for the choir. The roof trusses are left without a ceiling, and one can see the church space is a parallelogram.

Ceiling, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The chancel in the central apse has a simple slab of stone as the altar. The cornice above the chancel arch mirrors the cornice over the choir screen.

Apse, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The carving on the capital above the attached chancel column highlights the caliber of the stone cutters, although the imagery is not yet meant to tell a biblical parable as are the Romanesque capitals of a century later.

Chancel capital, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

The high skills of stone cutters is very much in evidence again on a simple block of stone placed as a low partition between the choir and the south transept.

Carved partition, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Monasterio de San Miguel de Escalada, Gradefes (Castile-León) Photo by Jong-Soung Kimm

Another example is this capital on one of the columns supporting a horseshoe-shaped arch.

Last summer when we had our exhibition at the Marian Library at the University of Dayton, we were interviewed by Radio Maria. Here is a link to the interview (about 45 minutes long) where we talk about the Vierges Romanes and Black Madonnas that we photograph in France and Spain. Enjoy!

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Comments on Via Lucis

“There are people who take pictures, there are photographers, and then, there is Via Lucis. This is the most incredible collection of images from Medieval churches I have yet seen. These places are amazing to start with, but what Dennis Aubrey and PJ McKey accomplish in these spaces with a camera is breathtaking.”

“How do you do it – time after time after time – beautiful photographs that need no words and beautiful words that need no photographs? Combined they transport us to the deepest place of our inner selves. Your gifts of self – an eye for finding the beauty in these ancient buildings and your ability to capture that beauty and share it with others – those are your blessings on those of us fortunate enough to know of your site and follow it.” – Jay Fredrich